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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24025546">One Day</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Howlingdawn/pseuds/Howlingdawn'>Howlingdawn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Episode: s01e01 Pilot, Family, Gen, M/M, Original Character Death(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:14:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,489</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24025546</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Howlingdawn/pseuds/Howlingdawn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>One day.</p>
<p>It only takes one day to destroy everything you know and love.</p>
<p>This day starts with a cancer diagnosis. And for Owen, TK, and his twin sister AJ, it only gets worse from there. Much, <em>much</em> worse.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alex (9-1-1 Lone Star)/TK Strand (briefly), Owen Strand &amp; Original Female Character, Owen Strand &amp; TK Strand, TK Strand &amp; Original Female Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>9-1-1 Lone Star Week</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>One Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for Lone Star Week - Day 3 - Alternate Universe - What If?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>It’s the psychological part of the diagnosis that trips most people up. Let this be an opportunity to look at your life, your work, your relationships, and make sure they’re all you want them to be.</em>
</p>
<p>Everything moved in slow motion as Owen made his way to work after the appointment. The subway. The crowds. The pigeons. Even people’s voices. Everything was slow. Muffled. The entire world blurred out by the doctor’s words running around and around his mind, the diagnosis haunting his every breath.</p>
<p>
  <em>Lung cancer.</em>
</p>
<p>After all these years, 9/11 would finally claim the last survivor of his crew.</p>
<p>He greeted his current crew with fake smiles and robotic nods, looking through them all for two members in particular. Their laughter reached him across the station, once music to his ears, now a stab to his heart, and he saw them doing pushups side by side, likely competing to see who could do the most. On the verge of losing, AJ gave her brother a quick shove between reps, knocking him over. TK yelped a protest, knocking her over in retaliation, but she crumpled insisting “I won!”</p>
<p>“Yeah, because you <em>cheated</em>!”</p>
<p>“You never said I couldn’t do that.”</p>
<p>“You can never do that!”</p>
<p>
  <em>I should break them up.</em>
</p>
<p>They could quite easily squabble over this for the rest of the day if he didn’t, even in the middle of a call. It was one of the perils of having his twins on the same crew. But today… Today, he left them alone, skirting the edge of the room and ducking into his office as quickly and quietly as he could, doing his best not to catch their attention.</p>
<p>
  <em>They’ll have to learn how to get along without me soon enough.</em>
</p>
<p>But they had each other. Whatever happened to him, whether the cancer took him fast or slow, whether he died proud and strong or scared and frail, they had each other.</p>
<p>The alarm sounded.</p>
<p>-----</p>
<p>When they arrived at the multi-car pileup, AJ pulled her twin aside, claiming him as her partner – not that that had ever been a question – as they searched for trapped survivors. “Does Dad seem off to you?”</p>
<p>“I was about to ask the same thing,” TK answered. He pointed at a red sedan. “Over there.”</p>
<p>AJ slid over the hood of an abandoned Mustang to reach the woman in the driver’s seat. She was slumped forward, blood trickling down her temple to stain the blonde hair plastered to her cheek, but her car was fairly undamaged. “Ma’am, can you hear me?”</p>
<p>She groaned. “My <em>head</em>.”</p>
<p>“Yes, it’s bleeding a bit. We’ll check you over in a moment. Do you remember what happened?”</p>
<p>“Some idiot stopped dead for no reason.”</p>
<p><em>Yeah, she’s fine. </em>“Be frustrated later. Right now, I want you calm, ok?”</p>
<p>“Ok.”</p>
<p>TK managed to pry the door open, and AJ checked the woman over, alternating between tending to her and talking to her brother. “What do you think is up with Dad?”</p>
<p>He held the woman steady as she helped her out of the car. “He was a bit late to work. Did he tell you why?”</p>
<p>AJ frowned. “No.”</p>
<p>Determining that she had a mild concussion and nothing worse, they led her out of the pileup and returned to the center of it. “Um, changing the subject for a minute,” TK broached nervously, “what if I told you I was thinking of proposing to Alex?”</p>
<p>AJ bit her tongue against her immediate thoughts – something had never sat right with her about TK’s current boyfriend. “You don’t sound excited about it.”</p>
<p>“I am,” TK insisted, not terribly convincingly, “I just… I know what you and Dad think about him.”</p>
<p>She evaded the comment, squinting through the tinted glass of a black SUV. “Why do you want to propose?”</p>
<p>As he was the shorter of the two – and the younger, that one inch and those six minutes were very important to AJ – she made him bend down to check the ridiculously low Camaro they reached next. “He’s been acting weird,” he explained, still nervous. “I think he’s been avoiding me.”</p>
<p>“He’s been avoiding you, so you want to propose?”</p>
<p>She tried not to sound too incredulous, but it wasn’t a simple task. <em>I love you, TK, but really?</em></p>
<p>“I don’t know!” TK exclaimed defensively. “Big gestures, right? That’s what Dad always says.”</p>
<p>“He’s also been divorced twice,” she pointed out. “Look, don’t propose. Just talk to him. Maybe he’s got a cute reason, like he’s planning his own proposal, at which point you can say yes. But if he’s not-”</p>
<p>“He wouldn’t hurt me.”</p>
<p>“I’m not saying he would.”</p>
<p>
  <em>I’m thinking it, but I’m not saying it.</em>
</p>
<p>Taking a breath, she clasped his shoulder, turning him to face her. “All I’m saying is to be prepared, and don’t jump headfirst into a risky situation like you always want to. We do enough of that on the job – don’t do it in your personal life too. Ok?”</p>
<p>He relaxed the tiniest fraction, managing a tiny smile. “Right. Thanks, Jay.”</p>
<p>“That's why I'm here, Teeks,” she said, giving his cheek a pat before letting him go. "To keep you from doing something stupid."</p>
<p>TK glared, and she turned away with a mischievous bounce in her step.</p>
<p>Rounding an overturned truck and trailer, they encountered a growing puddle of gasoline, spilling from the truck and two other nearby vehicles, pooling into one deadly trap. “Careful,” she murmured, catching TK’s arm. “Let’s keep mo- Sir?”</p>
<p>An elderly man stumbled around the back of the trailer, eyes glassy and forehead coated in blood. With shaking hands, he fumbled around in the pocket of his faded old jeans, eventually procuring a cigarette and-</p>
<p>And a lighter.</p>
<p>“Sir!” she repeated with much more urgency, holding a hand out to catch his attention, to stop him, <em>anything</em>. “Sir, please, do <em>not </em>light-”</p>
<p>After several failed tries, the lighter lit with a <em>click</em>.</p>
<p>
  <em>Crap.</em>
</p>
<p>“TK, get back,” she ordered lowly, maintaining her calm over the sudden pounding of her heart.</p>
<p>“AJ-”</p>
<p>“<em>Go</em>.”</p>
<p>Not giving him another chance to argue, she took a careful step forward. “Sir, my name is Amber. I’m a firefighter. And I need you to please, <em>please </em>put away the lighter.”</p>
<p>Blinking slowly, the man finally looked at her, taking an eternal moment to focus. “You shouldn’t be here.”</p>
<p>“Neither should you.” She extended her hand, offering it to him. “Please, put the lighter away and come with me.”</p>
<p>“No, don’t touch me!”</p>
<p>He jumped. Unbalanced, he fell. His head hit the bottom of the trailer. The lighter, still burning, slipped from his fingers. Plunging straight towards the gasoline below.</p>
<p>It all happened in a split second.</p>
<p>She wasn’t close enough to catch it.</p>
<p>TK was still right behind her. Grabbing her jacket. Trying to pull her back.</p>
<p>Her being six minutes older suddenly ceased to matter.</p>
<p>He just needed to live six minutes longer than her. Six hours. Six days. Six weeks. Six <em>anything</em>.</p>
<p>She spun around, tackling him to the ground, more grateful than ever before for that extra inch of height, that extra inch of her own body to shield him with.</p>
<p>The flames roared over them.</p>
<p>She could hear their dad screaming.</p>
<p>She could feel TK trying to shove her away, push her to safety.</p>
<p>She held on to him.</p>
<p>-----</p>
<p>TK couldn’t feel his dad’s hug.</p>
<p>The last thing he had felt was AJ refusing to let go of him even as the flames ate away at her.</p>
<p>Standing in the hospital’s waiting room with only a mild burn on one side of his neck and a few cuts from exploding glass didn’t feel <em>fair</em>.</p>
<p>Dad kissed his hair, one hand fisted in his shirt, yet still careful of any injuries TK had. “I’m glad you’re safe,” he whispered hoarsely.</p>
<p>
  <em>I’m not.</em>
</p>
<p>He didn’t know how to say it. And he hadn’t felt – or perhaps not felt was a better way to put it – this way since… since the last time he…</p>
<p>
  <em>I don’t want to get high.</em>
</p>
<p>He pulled out of his dad’s embrace almost desperately, fumbling for his phone. Dad always wanted to talk through feelings, but Alex never did. Alex would hold him. And Alex wouldn’t expect him to say anything.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Where are you?”</em>
</p>
<p>Alex’s demanding tone made him flinch. “I’m sorry, I know we were supposed to meet, but I- AJ was- I’m in the hospital.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“What? Why?”</em>
</p>
<p>He scrubbed his hand across his face with vicious pressure, all too aware of his dad watching him, of his heart beating rapidly in his chest, of the need for pills creeping over him, more powerful and all-consuming with every passing second of fear and uncertainty and guilt. “There was- there was an explosion. And AJ… she got hurt. Protecting me. We don’t… the doctors are saying…”</p>
<p>His voice broke.</p>
<p>His twin was dying.</p>
<p>He had never known life without her. They went to school together. They trained together. They worked together. They lived together.</p>
<p>He couldn’t <em>comprehend </em>life without her.</p>
<p>“I need you,” was all he could choke out.</p>
<p>Alex hesitated.</p>
<p>TK’s heart stopped.</p>
<p>
  <em>I can’t get high.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“TK…”</em>
</p>
<p>He knew that tone. The last time he had heard it was when Alex told him his dog, his dog whom TK had always loved, had to be put down.</p>
<p>
  <em>“I didn’t want to tell you like this. But I… I can’t go over there and hold you and pretend everything’s ok when it’s not.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Alex-”</p>
<p>
  <em>“I can’t give you my support. You would know it’s half-hearted, and you don’t need that right now.”</em>
</p>
<p>He wanted to protest. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to yell and scream and rage.</p>
<p>He was numb.</p>
<p>He was silent.</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’m breaking up with you, TK. I’m sorry.”</em>
</p>
<p>TK begged himself to say something, to try to save his relationship, to do <em>anything</em>.</p>
<p>The call ended.</p>
<p>All TK could do was stare at the phone.</p>
<p>Dad came up behind him, his voice soft, his touch gentle. “TK?”</p>
<p>He flinched away like he’d been shot.</p>
<p>The last person to touch him, to try to help him, was fighting for her life on an operating table.</p>
<p>“Captain Strand?”</p>
<p>TK spun around, hoping against all the odds that the doctor bore good news, but one look at her face told him all he needed to know. Dad took a step forward, still reaching for that feeble thread of hope, reaching for TK, but TK stumbled back a step, avoiding him, already knowing it was gone, broken, torn to shreds, just like his life.</p>
<p>“I’m so sorry,” she said quietly.</p>
<p>Dad looked like he wanted to fall apart. His lips wavered, tears welling in his eyes, a swallow shaking his throat.</p>
<p>But he didn’t.</p>
<p>He never did.</p>
<p>Not when his kids needed him.</p>
<p><em>His kid, </em>TK’s grief corrected.</p>
<p>Everything came crashing down at once. The grief, the guilt, the rage, the despair, and he couldn’t take it. It stole the breath from his lungs, the strength from his body, the heart from his soul.</p>
<p>He couldn’t take it.</p>
<p>
  <em>I need to get high.</em>
</p>
<p>“TK-”</p>
<p>He ran.</p>
<p>“TK!”</p>
<p>Dad tried to run after him, but a coughing fit stopped him in his tracks, and TK left him in the dust.</p>
<p>Looking back, he should’ve realized what that coughing fit meant when coupled with his still-unexplained absence that morning.</p>
<p>All he cared about was finding some pills.</p>
<p>-----</p>
<p>Owen had made the mistake of assuming TK would go back to his and AJ’s apartment.</p>
<p>He had made the mistake of assuming that <em>home </em>had ever meant anything but his twin.</p>
<p>So now he rode in the firetruck, precious time wasted, still wearing the civvies he had worn to learn that his daughter had died, the ones he had changed into because her blood had stained his uniform, now clutching his phone in a white-knuckled grip, tracking his son with the app AJ had made him install, the app Owen had prayed day in and day out that he would never have to use again.</p>
<p>It took them to a drug den.</p>
<p>He bolted off the truck, crashing through the door, and the stench hit him first. The stench of despair, of failure, of death. Turning on his phone’s flashlight to see through the shadows, picking his way over other addicts too far-gone to recognize help, trash crunching beneath his feet, he searched for his son. “TK!” he called. “TK!”</p>
<p>He descended down the creaking stairs to an even darker basement before he found him, splayed out on the broken wooden floor, half-empty pill bottle spilling out of his hand.</p>
<p>“<em>TK</em>!”</p>
<p>Owen flung himself to the floor, feeling it shift beneath his knees, and he checked for a pulse with shaking fingers.</p>
<p>Nothing.</p>
<p>
  <em>No.</em>
</p>
<p>He scrambled to get TK onto his back, barely registering the crew helping him, and started compressions. “Don’t you die on me, TK,” he said, his voice somewhere between a growl and a choked plea. “I <em>cannot </em>lose both of you, not today, not <em>now</em>.”</p>
<p>
  <em>This morning, I was going to die first.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>For twenty-six years, I was supposed to die first.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Now I may outlive them both.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>No.</em>
</p>
<p><em>I will </em>not <em>let that happen.</em></p>
<p>“Give me the Narcan!”</p>
<p>Ignoring the protests that he should step aside, he jammed the medicine into his son’s leg and waited with bated breath.</p>
<p>
  <em>Please.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Please, TK.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Don’t leave me to die alone.</em>
</p>
<p>TK sucked in a massive breath, which may very well have been the most beautiful thing Owen had ever heard, and his eyes flying open may very well have been the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, but he didn’t relax until TK was in his arms, clinging to him with a strength born of terror and desperation, begging for forgiveness, broken in so many ways but beautifully, blessedly, against all the odds, <em>alive</em>.</p>
<p>“It’s ok,” Owen reassured him, holding TK close, running his hand through his hair, treasuring every single noise and movement he made, no matter how tiny, how scared, how weak. He could be angry later. The tough love could come later. Just now, all TK needed was to be loved, and all Owen needed was to hold him. “It’s ok.”</p>
<p>With perfect timing to ruin the moment, his lungs tightened painfully, forcing him to swallow down the urge to cough, and he remembered the fit that had stopped him at the hospital, the first time his cancer had ever truly hurt, preventing him from saving his son, trapping him where he had lost his daughter.</p>
<p>He closed his eyes.</p>
<p>Nothing was ok.</p>
<p>Later might never come.</p>
<p>In the span of mere hours, their world had become as broken, dark, and hopeless as the drug den around them.</p>
<p>But that wasn’t what TK needed to hear right now.</p>
<p>That wasn’t anything Owen could force himself to say aloud right now.</p>
<p>So he lied.</p>
<p>“It’s ok.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This wasn't supposed to be a standalone one-shot, but I haven't written the followup stuff yet and it works well enough on its own, so until I get that done, I hope you enjoyed the pain :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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